


Clearing the Air

by Udunie



Series: Adult Conversations [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chris Argent's POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied Torture, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Argent never thought he would ever be invited to a werewolf pack meeting. Being kidnapped and held hostage? Sure. Being taken so they could torture him for information? Wouldn’t be the first time. But actually being invited in a more or less civil (or at least not hostile) manner? No chance in hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clearing the Air

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, first Teen Wolf fic! (Please be gentle with me!)  
> I would like to thank Tina, for encouraging me, and for listening to my Stiles related flailings.  
> Also, thanks to the lovely Dawn, who was kind enough to beta this fic.

Chris Argent never thought he would _ever_ be invited to a werewolf pack meeting. Being kidnapped and held hostage? Sure. Being taken so they could torture him for information? Wouldn’t be the first time. But actually being invited in a more or less civil (or at least not hostile) manner? No chance in hell.

So when he entered the old Hale house it was with understandable reluctance and a smaller arsenal hidden on his person, just in case.

He knew that the pack had other hangouts, and was pretty sure that it was mostly because of him that they arranged the meeting here; there was nothing more heartwarming than mutual mistrust.

But even mistrust had to be put aside if an Alpha pack was heading for Beacon Hills. He was suddenly glad that Allison had decided that she needed a break from the supernatural, and visited her aunt (a non-hunter one, thank god) for an undefined time. There was only one week left of school so Chris had no problem letting her go after making sure that she passed all her academic responsibilities. If he wanted to be completely honest, he needed the break just as much as her. He loved his daughter more than anyone in the world, but seeing her almost become someone he hardly recognized - after already loosing so much - took a toll on him. He just hoped that Allison would be able to get herself together.

He took a deep breath before stepping into the burnt ruins of the house, following the voices to what once was the living room. Derek was there, naturally, and so were Erica and Boyd, snuggled together on a second hand sofa, almost literally licking their wounds. It wasn’t a surprise, considering the number the Alphas did on them as a message to the pack. Isaac was sitting beside them, though Chris couldn’t help but notice the careful distance he held from the pair.

Chris didn’t take the sudden tension in the room personally, he remembered all too well how berserk Allison went on the night when they captured the two betas.

“Argent,” Derek growled, which would have been alarming, except he came to understand that growling was the default setting of communication where the guy was concerned.

“Hale,” he greeted back, making sure to keep his voice even and bland.

It seemed the simple exchange was enough to ease some of the palpable heaviness of the air, and the betas turned back to their quiet conversation.

Chris looked around, not sure what to do with himself. He didn’t want to give up the advantage of being on his feet, but he didn’t want Derek to take his reluctance to sit the wrong way. This was enemy territory. Quite literary.

In the end he decided to lean against a charred pillar off to the side, it gave him an air of casualness and took him out of the center of attention, but at the same time allowed him to run or find cover quickly if necessary.

Peter Hale took that moment to flaunt into the room, and even with the - little _too_ friendly - smile shot his way, Chris had to force himself to stay relaxed.

This was the man who killed his sister, and no matter how twisted and rotten Kate became, she was still the same girl who chased him around the house for stealing the last cookie after Sunday dinner when they were kids. He toyed with the idea of hunting down Peter after the ex-alpha came back, but then he remembered the crazed light in his eyes when he was set on fire - for the second time - and decided against it. It seemed Peter got himself a second chance, and as long as he refrained from killing anyone, he would keep himself to the Code as well.

“Chris,” Peter greeted, like having the head of a hunting family in the middle of a werewolf nest was the most natural thing in the world. Chris had the sudden feeling that Peter was the one behind his invitation, though he had no idea what the older Hale wanted to gain from it. He wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth if he tried to speak, so he just nodded at the man. At least the fact that Derek tracked his uncle’s every move with wary eyes filled him with some satisfaction; it seemed like the alpha finally grew some common sense.

Jackson was the next to arrive, greeting everyone with little to no enthusiasm and if Chris had thought it possible, he would have said that he looked even more out of place than Chris felt. And that was saying something. From what little intel he had, Jackson was more than reluctant to join the pack, especially knowing what Peter did to his girlfriend, but the boy had enough survival instinct to know that he had no chance against the Alpha pack on his own. Chris had to bite back a sarcastic smile; Jackson might think he only joined temporarily, but with 20 years of experience behind his back the hunter knew that there was no such thing where pack bonds were concerned.

The boy took the rickety armchair next to the betas, eyeing them with mistrust, but for a second there was a flash of longing in there too, which just proved Chris’ point.

Jackson’s arrival prompted a new round of tense silence, thick enough that he didn’t need werewolf senses to hear the next car as it made its way up the dirt road to the Hale house and then stopped noisily at the front with a sound that could only be described as the mechanical equivalent of an animal’s dying whine. A door opened then closed. Then another one.

Chris wouldn’t have admitted it to a soul, but he was actually a bit relieved when Scott and Stiles entered the living room. If bad came to worst, he was sure that they would at least attempt to back him up if one of the others decided that having a hunter in their midst wasn’t such a great idea; Scott because he was still head-over-heels in love with Allison, and Stiles because... well, he was Stiles. Chris got the feeling that the kid had an aversion to people dying around him.

But apparently not everybody agreed with him.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Erica asked with a frown, looking at Stiles like he was some kind of an insect.

Chris wasn’t sure he hadn’t just imagined the slight shift in the boy’s stance before he was already running his mouth off like there was no tomorrow.

“Well, you see, I was informed that this was a ‘Save Beacon Hills From The Big Bad Alphas’ kind of meeting, and you know, I thought, why not? It’s not like I had anything else to do, since my best buddy is definitely in the middle of this shit storm. And if he’s not there to play Mario Kart with me as usual - and I have to tell you I kick his ass every damned time, freaky reflexes or not - then I might as well jump on the lets-get-ourselves-killed-by-mythical-creatures train, that everybody seems to be so fond of-” he might have kept going, but Erica just pulled her lips into a disgusted line and turned to Derek.

“What is he doing here? I get Argent, but _he_ is completely useless. He would get us killed before we even started.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” Stiles shot back, though Chris saw the skin around his mouth tightening a fraction, somehow making the almost healed bruises on his face stand out.

“Hey,” Scott took a step forward, putting himself between the betas and his friend, “you have no right to say that. He’s not the one who got his ass kicked by the Alphas.”

Chris could see Derek shifting in the background, probably contemplating whether to step in now, or let the kids blow off some steam before they started the serious business.

Erica leaned forward in her seat, looking at Scott with narrowed eyes.

“I might have been defeated by the Alphas, but he’s the one who got his ass handed to him by a geezer, who was - by the way - one step away from his deathbed.”

“What?” Asked Derek and Scott at the same time, both of them turning to Stiles with their irises flashing bright. Chris wanted to roll his eyes, but stopped himself when he saw that Peter was already doing it.

Stiles looked like he swallowed a lemon whole, his gaze fluttering from one werewolf to the other.

“Um...”

Derek started growling.

“You said the other team did it!” Scott cried, and he was so much like a kicked puppy in that moment, that Chris could almost understand what Allison saw in him.

Stiles, on the other hand, was having that deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face; his jaw was working, but no sounds came out.

“Yes, yes. And you not catching on to the lie means that either you missed Derek’s - probably very interesting and most informative - lesson on reading heartbeats, or... that you simply weren’t listening, which makes you a crappy friend,” Peter said from the corner where he took up residence. “Though how my nephew failed to smell Gerard all over him in the warehouse is still a mystery.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled.

“What,” the boy snapped back, it wasn’t even really a question, but the irritated tone made Derek blink, like someone sloshed a bucket of cold water on him.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened, okay? I didn’t tell him anything,” Stiles grumbled, taking a step back and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Well, that was a defensive stance, if Chris ever saw one.

“Yeah, right. Only because you didn’t actually _know_ anything, thank fuck,” Erica sneered. “And that’s why we should keep it like that.”

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Stiles said again in a strained voice, not looking at the others.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Stiles, you were begging for him to stop, you were fucking crying! The only reason you didn’t spill what Derek was planning and where they were taking Jackson was because you had no idea.”

The boy just stood there for a second with a small muscle jumping in his jaw from clenching it too hard, then swallowed.

“Okay, you know what? You’re right. Maybe I should just go.”

He pushed himself away from the wall and made a step towards the door, but came up short when Peter appeared right in front of him.

It was a testament of how deep in thought Chris was during the exchange, that he didn’t even notice the man moving.

“I don’t think so,” Peter said, with one of his sickening smiles. He threw his arm over Stiles’ shoulder, and walked him back into the room. There was a glint in his eye that made Chris wonder about how fast he could reach the taser strapped to his leg. “I think we should have this out in the open.”

“First of, where were you exactly, when this happened?” he asked, looking at Boyd and Erica, but didn’t actually wait for an answer. “Hm? Oh, right, you were tied up after getting caught in the process of _abandoning_ your pack. And the only reason why you didn’t tell anything to Gerard, was simply because you _couldn’t_. Well, maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see how that makes you any better.”

“We are pack. We couldn’t tell him anything, because we have a _bond_. He doesn’t. He’s just a human, nothing ties him to us,” Erica shot back sullenly.

Peter marched Stiles to the only remaining seat in the room; it was actually an upturned wooden crate with a dark green cushion thrown over it that seemed awfully out of place until Chris realized that it was from Allison’s bedroom. He wished he could be surprised.

Peter pushed Stiles down, leaving a heavy hand on his shoulder - probably to stop him from escaping - but whatever his intentions were, both Scott and Derek watched him like he was holding their newborn. And that was kind of a disturbing thought.

“Actually, you’re not Pack. You might be _in_ a pack, but it’s not the same thing,” the man said with that sickening smile still in place. “All of you took the bite to get something - health, attention, protection, recognition...” he listed calmly, pointing at Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson.

“Now, if we take a moment to think here, aren’t those all things that Stiles might need too? Popping pills every day, being forced into the background by his best friend, having to stand his ground between creatures that are meaner and stronger than he is, and all that shadowed by the fact that he is constantly lying to his father?”

Chris glanced at Stiles. He knew all this already, thought it over when he was wondering why the kid wasn’t a werewolf yet. He never came to any logical conclusion and now, looking at how pale and shaky the boy was, he thought he might never understand it.

“I know for a fact, that Derek told you all about the risks,” Peter continued, “because that’s how he was raised. And still, you took the bite without a second of hesitation. Have you ever thought about why Stiles didn’t?”

“I haven’t offered him,” Derek said. His eyes never went back to their natural color since finding out that Stiles was attacked by Gerard. He had a guarded look, probably sensing that Peter had a point to make, and he won’t like it.

“Yes, well _I_ did,” the older Hale commented. He must have expected what happened next, because he barely flinched when he was slammed into a wall, and had a face full of growling Alpha.

“Would you mind getting off my windpipe? I was in the middle of a conversation,” he wheezed, far from unnerved.

It was Scott, who finally pried Derek off him. Scott seemed almost as pale as his best friend, who was still sitting on the crate motionless. Chris thought the lack of movement fit him ill.

“So,” Peter said after clearing his throat for a few seconds, “as I was saying. Stiles had all the reasons to take the bite and didn’t. And if you would get your heads out of your asses, then you would realize how strong that makes him.”

“Stupidity doesn’t make him strong.” Erica spit vehemently. “If he didn’t want it, that just makes it easier to get rid of him.”

“But that’s just it.” Peter said with his smile back in place. He walked over to Stiles again, touching his shoulder as he went past him and making the boy shiver in discomfort. “He wanted it.”

The betas looked confused. Peter rolled his eyes, like he was straddled with a bunch of the most annoying teenagers he could even imagine. Chris could - maybe - sympathize.

“It’s not a feat to say no to something you _don’t_ want, but to say no to actual temptation takes someone special.” Hale spelled it out for them when it became apparent that they wouldn’t get it.

Erica harrumphed, like she couldn’t put up with this shit anymore.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s weak, and a liability. His ‘internal strength’ you seem to imply here isn’t worth a rat’s ass when we are facing something dangerous.”

Chris sighed as he looked at them one by one.

Stiles was just sitting there, obviously wanting to be anywhere else than here; his leg kept tapping in the charred floor while his head hung low and he pointedly wasn’t looking at any of them. It was so out of character for the boy who was usually all fire, that for the first time Chris felt something close to fondness for the only other human in the room.

Derek, unsurprisingly, seemed conflicted - even more than usual, and that was saying something - probably still struggling with the information. The way he just let Peter run the show worried Chris, but it wasn’t his place to call him out on his crappy leadership skills. All he could hope for was that it would come to the guy with time. And that he would actually have time.

Scott didn’t look much better either. From the few times they actually talked, he knew that the kid wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, so hearing everything spelled out to him must have been some kind of a revelation, but judging by his face it was clear that most of all he was worried about his friend. Good.

The other betas were harder to read, as he didn’t know them that much. Jackson - for example - seemed bored on the surface, but he was shooting unreadable glances at Stiles, like he was seeing him for the first time.

Isaac, on the other hand, just looked like a puppy who pulled his tail between his legs when the bigger dogs were fighting, though his eyes were alight with understanding. Personally, the hunter thought that his reaction had more to do with wanting to avoid confrontation, than with fear - the kid shaped up pretty well since he got out from under his father’s rule. If someone forced Chris to place a bet, he would have said that the boy was the most in tune with the dynamics of his pack, and understood what was going on at least on an instinctual level.

Then there was Boyd. Chris would have been hard pressed to recall more than three expressions he ever saw  on Boyd’s face - angry, scared and plain old _blank_ \- so he really had no idea what the teen might be thinking, but he was still holding on to his girlfriend, whatever that might imply.

Chris was pretty sure that Erica was way too smart to not understand what Peter was saying, but either she didn’t want to get it, or just didn’t care. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that she was holding some old grudge against Stiles - and maybe that was part of it - but he knew people enough to see the signs of someone desperately overcompensating.

Because Erica made a mistake. She took off and ran away from the pack, and then had to choose between returning or dying. If there was anyone whose place here should have been questioned, it was hers and Boyd’s, and she obviously couldn’t let that happen. So she did the most logical thing, deflected the attention to someone she thought was vulnerable. Stiles was the odd one out in the group and - if looking only at the hard facts - made a perfect target. She was trying to reinforce her position in the pack by attacking him, it was that simple. The hunter was pretty sure, that deep down she didn’t even believe half the things she was saying, but now that she started it Erica had no place to retreat.

When Chris glanced at Peter, he was startled for a second to see him staring right back with a look that clearly said ‘help me with these hopeless little shits, or I will claw someone’s throat out’, or something along those lines.

Chris sighed. Again.

He really didn’t think that getting mixed up in this would be a smart move and as a hunter he had to concentrate on keeping his priorities in order, but if he looked at the ‘Bigger Picture’ he had no option.

He didn’t even know where to start.

“We - Gerard and I - actually held a tactical meeting about Stiles,” he began, after taking a deep breath. Predictably, that got everyone’s attention. Stiles wasn’t even pale anymore; his skin was almost greenish, and he looked at Chris with eyes so huge, that he was afraid they would actually just pop out of his head.

“What?” That was Derek, of course. It seemed like that was his favorite word today.

“After the rave. Gerard figured out that it must have been Stiles who made the protection line and it... peaked his interest.” He felt a strange churning in his stomach, knowing that he was voluntarily sharing confidential information about hunting - for about a second - but for Christ’s sake, these were only kids who would probably end up dead pretty soon if they didn’t get their shit together. He took a deep breath and continued, taking care to make eye-contact with all of the betas.

“Peter is right about one thing, that you are just in a pack, and not a _Pack_. But that isn’t exactly your fault, because you don’t know any better. So, I want you to listen to me very carefully, because I have been hunting your kind for two decades.” He could see them all shifting forward on their seats, their attention caught. It was almost cute. _Almost_ , being the operative word.

“Packs that have well integrated human members are always more difficult to take down; they can do things, that werewolves can’t, their judgment isn’t clouded by instincts, they can help you during the full moon. I know for a fact that the Hales had humans among them.” He glanced at Derek, to see if he went too far, but the man was just looking at a charred wall with glazed eyes, probably lost in Memory Land.

“None of you could have handled the mountain ash, even though if everything went according to your plan, it could have saved your lives, for example. The usual mode of operation when we are faced with a pack that has human members? We go after them first.”

Chris could see Erica’s eyes glint, probably hoping for some backup for her argument. But that wasn’t where he planned to go with this.

“We do this, because a pack as a whole is almost impossible to defeat. The Alpha is stronger, the betas are more in sync... but losing just _one_ member is enough to cause fractures in that structure. Humans in a pack are usually held in high value, not only because of the things they can do, but because they are physically weaker. The wolves are natural driven to protect the more vulnerable members, so if they do lose one of them, they will take it as a personal failure. They start pointing fingers at each other, or go into a rage that makes them easy target for the hunters.”

He took a deep breath, and was almost surprised how simple it was to tell these ‘monsters’ about tactics developed by generations of hunters. It didn’t feel like betrayal at all, though if he wanted to be honest, lately he hasn’t seen anything in his family that warranted any kind of loyalty.

“At first glance it might seem like having humans in a pack is more of a risk than an asset, but packs without humans generally don’t survive long. Werewolves tend to stick together; that means that they lose touch with their surroundings, and that attracts attention from the people around them. And during the full moon? They’re usually so out of their mind, that they won’t notice the traps set for them until it’s too late. Personally, I often saw that ‘exclusive’ packs quickly lose the little humanity they might have had and turn completely berserk.”

He looked around to see if they understood the importance of this. He kept an eye on this pack from the start, and the way Erica, Boyd and Isaac acted after they were turned - and before Stiles and Allison started working with them - was alarming. They forgot which lines not to cross, and looked at their peers as prey. It could have easily turned ugly.

“One of the _many_ reasons why I was against Allison being with you all was that any human who allies themselves with werewolves becomes a target, and the Code won’t protect them,” he said, meeting Scott’s eyes head on. He was okay with letting the boy live, but to allow his daughter to get mingled in the pack was more than he could bear. He had no idea what would happen after Allison came back - he knew he couldn’t hold her back if she was really set on her boyfriend - but he could at least make _him_ understand what he was dragging her into.

“So, yes. Stiles was actually someone we talked about as a threat who needed to be eliminated. I have to admit that at the time I thought I made a pretty compelling argument of how we couldn’t touch him because of his father, but now I’m starting to see that Gerard had other ideas. And you are all playing into his hand.”

Peter looked deep in thought, but far from surprised. Derek on the other hand, was frowning so hard that his eyebrows almost touched.

“What do you mean?” he asked finally.

“Step one:” Chris counted on his fingers “separate the human from the pack on the pretence of interrogation. That was easy enough after the game. Step two: make sure that the human _doesn’t_ have the information you need. I mean, my father wasn’t stupid. He took Stiles directly after the game, before Jackson was even carried off the field. Stiles had no time to talk to Scott or to even look at his phone, so he simply couldn’t know what was happening. And that’s important. If he did know anything, and refused to spill, then the plan would backfire.”

Chris felt his mouth pull into a wry, bitter smile before he could continue, because whatever his father became in the end, he was always a great tactician.

“Not to mention, that he didn’t actually _need_ the information. He was the kanima’s master; as soon as Jackson regained consciousness, he knew exactly where he was. Anyway, step three: stage audience for the humiliation of the human. That was Erica and Boyd. I mean, if we are looking at it psychologically, Stiles would have been much more likely to tell him something if there was no one to see it. But Gerard needed them to _witness_ how easily he could break him.”

For the first time, Boyd looked like he was actually contemplating what he was hearing. Chris was pretty sure that being used by Gerard was something he didn’t like too much. Then he glanced at Erica; he didn’t hate the girl, she was just a scared child, and if he could make them understand what he was saying it would also give her an out from the corner she backed herself into with attacking Stiles.

“And lastly, step four: release the human. Never kill them, never hold them for too long, always release them. This is the part where I came in, though I had no idea at the time that I was a part of the plan too,”

“ _Release_ them, seriously? That doesn’t even make sense,” Jackson countered, talking for the first time since he sat down. It just proved, that no matter how disinterested he acted, he was paying close attention.

“Well, what do you think would have happened if Derek or Scott found out about Stiles’ dying in my house?” he asked calmly, looking at the nervous way that all of them swallowed at the mere thought. He knew they understood the implications.

“If he died, Stiles would have been a martyr of the pack, a common loss that would have given you strength. That’s why.”

“And why not keep the human for long?” came Peter’s question, even though Chris was pretty sure, that the man understood everything; he probably just wanted to make sure that the others got it too.

“The longer you keep them, the bigger the chance that they will be rescued. And that is something to be avoided, because the plan isn’t just to break the pack’s trust in the human, but to make the human understand, that he couldn’t count on the pack.”

He let that sink in for a few seconds, which everyone used to stare at Stiles. The poor kid was sitting ramrod straight, looking blankly at the ceiling while chewing on his nails like they were the tastiest snacks he ever had.

Chris took pity on him and continued.

“Can any of you imagine a better way to make someone rethink their priorities, than making them realize that there was no one there to help them? That no one would save them? There is a huge difference between being saved or being _allowed_ to go free by the mercy of your enemy.”

Stiles opened his mouth, like he wanted to counter that somehow, but he accidentally caught Derek’s eyes and whatever he saw in them made him shut his mouth so fast, that the click of his teeth resonated in the silence.

“As much as I hate the idea of a kid getting mixed with a pack of werewolves, the fact that you are discussing kicking him out is exactly what Gerard wanted,” he concluded finally. He barely finished the sentence when Scott threw himself across the room and took a startled Stiles to the ground with him. Chris almost drew his gun, but then realized that there were much more hugging involved than claws or teeth.

Isaac looked around nervously for a minute, but then just shrugged, and joined the other two on the floor.

There was some huffing and puffing from the bottom as Stiles tried to get at least his head out from under the other two to take a breath. He flailed around with his arms, probably to make Scott relax his hold on him a little, but instead his hand smacked into Erica’s feet. They looked at each other for a long moment, with the boy holding her ankle. Chris couldn’t tell what exactly was passed between them in the silent exchange, but the next moment Erica and Boyd dived off the couch to join them until they were in a wiggling heap of limbs and incomprehensible grunts.

Derek growled as he knelt down next to his pack; it took him a moment to find Stiles’ head, but when he finally did, his eyes returned to their natural color. The Alpha leaned down to whisper something to the boy and Chris was suddenly glad that he didn’t have the hearing to understand whatever it was to make the kid so red in the face.

Jackson stayed exactly where he was, pretending very hard that he didn’t want to be at the bottom of that puppy-pile, but no one was fooled.

Chris just shook his head and met Peter’s eyes above the wolves on the floor with a long-suffering expression. The older Hale shot him a half smile, then crossed his arms and gave a long, annoyed sigh, like he wasn’t sure what to do with this ragtag bunch of idiots.

And Chris? Chris could definitely sympathize.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make this fic part of my Mini Bang, but realized that I'm impatient as hell... so here it comes. There might be more installments to this, though I don't how closely the stories will connect. What I'm sure that they will be centered around Stiles and the adult characters of the show.


End file.
